I Need You: A John Lennon Story
by nashville-skyline
Summary: It's 1957 and Julia Salvatore is alone. She's moved to a foreign country, her divorced father's homeland, and has nobody. That is, until she meets the rebellious teen-aged John Lennon, who will become the closest person to ever enter Julia's life.
1. Getting Better

**I Need You: A John Lennon Story**

_**Chapter One: Getting Better, 12 July 1957**_

The house was big. It looked grand, and much too posh for my taste. Just as our car rolled into the large driveway, I pulled my sleeves down.

Standing on the stone steps leading to the grand door was my father. He wore a forced smile, his hands crossed against his chest. The car parked, and the driver opened my door.

"Thank you," I thanked him quietly. By now, father was climbing down the stairs, the same tight-lipped smile on his face.

"Julia, my darling," Father engulfed me in a tight hug.

"Dad," I breathed. I hugged him back just as tightly, and he just held me there.

I choked back tears with a quiet hiccup. He hugged me tighter for a second, and then released me.

"Second floor, third door on the right," He told the driver, who was standing awkwardly awaiting instructions.

He nodded, and went into the house. "Let's get in,"

Father placed an arm around my shoulders and tugged me inside as I wiped my tears away with the side of my coat sleeves.

He led me into a grand foyer, and shut the door after him. The stained glass shook in the slightest as he slammed the door shut. He pointed to another archway to my left, and I walked towards it.

It was a kitchen, and on the stove was an already boiling tea pot. I walked to it, and poured ourselves some tea as father took a seat on the breakfast table.

"Thank you," Father mumbled as he took the tea cup i handed him. I sat myself down in front of him as he began to speak. "How was your flight in?"

"Fine," I shrugged, taking another sip of my hot tea. "How have you been, dad?"

"Alright," My father shrugged dismissively. "Better now that you're here,"

I smiled at him, and he reciprocated it, trying his hardest to convince me that he was okay, and that I shouldn't worry about him.

"You'll be okay, dad," I muttered softly.

"I know, darling," He responded just as softly in his thick Liverpudlian accent. "I'm going to head up to bed; it's been a long day for the both of us."

"Goodnight, dad," I said softly.

He smiled weakly at me, petted my hair, and then exited the kitchen, rubbing his neck in the process. He looked worn out, and he looked like a beaten old man. It saddened me to a great extent to see my father, so joyful and optimistic before, so sad and depressed now.

I heard him trudge up the stairs and into his room, closing the door shut softly behind him. Once his door shut, this house, our house, was completely silent. The rooms felt distant, and made me sad. I didn't want to think that this is where I'd be living for the next few months.

I had to get used to the idea, nevertheless.

I finished my tea, and began to trudge up the same staircase, my mind racing. Every emotion that I had held back these past weeks seemed to seep out of my skin as I dragged my feet up the stairs.

Everything was so completely new and foreign, and I had nobody. I had nobody within this entire Earth that I could speak to about anything.

I was completely alone and it hurt me so much to think that this was completely true.

I clambered up the stairs and into my designated bedroom, never recalling the driver leaving our house. I saw my suitcases in the corner of my large room, and sat myself down on the edge of my bed, gripping tightly at the silk bedspread underneath me. I shut my eyes, and felt a single tear slide down my cheek.

I felt it land on my wrist, and I cried some more. Though tears were flowing violently down my cheeks, I hadn't made a single noise since sitting myself down on my bed.

I let out a high pitched wail through clenched teeth, and fell back on my bed. A wave of drowsiness overcame my petite body after a few more minutes of crying, and soon enough, I fell into a deep slumber.

When I awoke the next morning, tears were already sliding down my cheeks. I had been crying in my sleep; a normal occurrence to be quite honest. My mind was awake, but I kept my eyes shut, not wanting to open them and look at my new bedroom.

After lying silently with my hands curled underneath my pillow, I finally opened my emerald green eyes. I was met with a weak stream of sunlight going through my yellow tapestry. The sun was out, but covered by masses of grey clouds.

At this, I smiled softly: I had always loved gloomy weather. I propped myself up on my bed, and stretched my arms out, a weak yawn escaping my lips. As I clambered off of my bed, I tousled my brown locks, still rather drowsy.

I went to my vanity, and closed in on the ornate mirror. I stared blankly at my reflection, staring at the big emerald eyes popping against my pale skin, my full pink lips in a perfect pout, and straight nose in the air.

I pulled my hair back, and looked at my thin face, impassive. After rubbing my eyes and sighing a deep sigh, and went into my bathroom, and into the shower.

Seeing as I had absolutely nothing to do today, and I was going to be alone all day, I took a rather long bath. I came out relaxed and just as depressed as before, but relaxed nonetheless. After wrapping myself up in a towel, and drying my hair off, I walked back into my room.

The sky had gotten darker by now, and it looked beautiful. I readied myself for a day of nothingness, waving my chestnut brown locks, and placing my sundress under a pea coat. I threw my boots on, and tossed a scarf around my neck, trudging into the hallway and down the staircase.

I took a woven bag from the coat closet in the foyer, and exited the house. I locked the door, and trudged down the marble stairs and to the expansive gardens. I had no idea where I was going, I only knew that I wanted to explore this new town.

We lived out in the legitimate suburbs of this city, so I had to walk at least a mile to get to the first bus stop. I clambered on, and was relieved to see that there was only three other people on it, an elderly woman, another woman dressed in a maid's uniform, and a small clan of teenaged boys.

I deposited my change, and walked to the back of the bus. I crossed my legs, and looked out to the passing street. I planned on getting off at the nearest stop in the metropolitan part of Liverpool, and exploring. Sitting three seats in front of me were the three teenaged boys.

They all wore their hair slicked back in a way similar to Elvis, and all had leather jackets on. They all blended together, all except the clear leader of this clan. This teenaged boy also wore Buddy Holly glasses, and they, I supposed, were worn to show his dominance.

They all hadn't kept their eyes off of me since I boarded the bus. I was flattered, and intrigued. I'd never received this type of attention from boys back at home in New York City. To be stared at by not one boy, but three boys, was glorious.

As coyly as I could, I flipped my hair to my side, clearing up my vision. They all kept staring at me, but the leaders gaze was mesmerising me. He held a passion in his eyes that I'd never seen before, and it made me not want to look away. He held my gaze for a few more seconds, until he finally looked away.

I smirked to myself, and heard his friends clap him on the shoulder loudly. I rolled my eyes, and tossed my hair to the side again. The bus suddenly came to a stop, and I shot up from my seat. Much to my surprise and pleasure, I saw the three boys get up as well. I was going to wait until they exited the small corridor of the bus, but the leader of the group insisted I go first.

"Ladies first," He backed in his seat, causing his friends to fall back. I chuckled softly at his friends, who had landed on top of each other, and began to make my way past the boy whose gaze was so mesmerising.

"Thank you," I mumbled to him.

He only nodded. Blushing, I crept out of the bus, and into the sidewalk. It was getting gloomier, and colder. Tightening the scarf around my neck, I began to walk down this street.

I heard heavy footsteps behind me, and sure enough, noticed that the same boys on the bus were walking right behind me. I got a full view of the boy with Buddy Holly glasses, and saw him to be one of the most handsome boys I'd ever seen.

His complexion was pale, and perfect, his almond eyes shielded behind his large glasses. His lips were slightly put into a smirk as he caught me examining his face. Just as I caught his eye, and I was to turn around in embarrassment, I heard him whistle. I turned back towards him, and slowed my fast-paced walk.

"Come 'ere a sec," The same boy called for me. I stood frozen at my spot, unsure of what to do. "You deaf, love?"

"Err..."

The boy chuckled and instead filled the gap between us. He walked up to me, his two friends trailing behind him.

"What's your name, beautiful?" He asked me once he stood in front of me.

"Julia," I said after clearing my throat. "Julia Salvatore,"

He nodded. "You American, Julia?" I nodded. "You sound it," He smirked at the latter.

I stayed quiet at this part; I didn't know what to say. "How old are you, love?"

"Seventeen," I sprouted quickly. "I just moved here,"

"From?"

"New York City,"

"Where are you going to school?" He asked me.

"Liverpool Art College," I answered, smiling.

"As am I," He smirked again. "How interesting."

"Indeed," I smiled wider. "What was your name?"

"John," He smirked. "John Lennon."

"Lennon? I rather like that name," I mused. "Well, it was nice to meet you, John Lennon, but if you'll excuse me, I've got shopping to get done."

"I'll see you round, Julia," John backed up from me, and back to his friends, who had been watching our altercation from a distance.

He came up to his friends, who all gave him a congratulatory clap on the shoulder, and began to walk away. John turned his head back to me, and smiled a soft smile before turning around and leaving me.

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	2. Til There Was You

**I Need You: A John Lennon Story**

_**Chapter Two: Till There Was You, 14 July 1957**_

Father had left for a week of business at his firm in London, so I had been alone in our house these past days. I was actually quite happy to be on my own, I finally had time to think over everything that had happened with our family over the last year or so.

Surprisingly, I didn't shed a tear when I relived these painful memories. I didn't cry when I thought of how out of the blue my mum's demand for divorce was. I didn't cry when I remembered the day I found out why she had decided to divorce my father, her loyal husband of more than fifteen years.

I didn't cry when I thought of the man, not ten years older than I, who had been the reason of my mum's infidelities. I didn't shed a single tear, and I was proud of myself.

But it was still early in my memories, so I couldn't get too excited. I shut my eyes, and leaned back in my seat on the porch, thinking of how malicious the divorce was.

After my mum had made it clear that she wanted to divorce my father, he immediately left for his hometown, Liverpool. Father said that he would fly in when necessary, he only wished to not see her. He was completely heart-broken, and didn't want to ever see her again. So he didn't. Not even to this day, more than a year since this happened, he hadn't seen her. He simply refused.

I felt so incredibly bad for my father. He hadn't done a single thing to her, he had been loyal and loving during all of their marriage, and she repaid him by sleeping with her worker, a man fifteen years her junior. After I found out about this man, I wasn't able to look at my mum the same. My image of her was tainted; I didn't look up to her anymore.

Now, she was my example of what not to become. Because of the pain she had caused my father, and myself, I never, ever wanted to cause this sort pain to anyone. Because of her, I would never cheat on anyone. I just couldn't stand to see myself forming into her, so I promised myself to never get to that point. God knows I was going to keep my promise.

'That's enough for the day,' I thought, and picked myself up off the chair I was lounging on. I quickly picked up my book, and trekked back inside.

I set my book down on the mail table in our foyer, and walked to the kitchen. After I thoroughly searched all the cabinets, and our refrigerator, and saw that we didn't have any food, I trekked up to my bedroom.

I walked to my mirror, quickly brushing out my long, chestnut waves, took my shoulder-bag and a thin cardigan, and went back to the foyer. Hastily, I put my cardigan on, and threw my bag over my shoulder as I walked out the front door.

Seeing as it was rather late, I knew the bus wasn't going to be running here anytime soon, so I just walked. I walked slowly, looking at everything surrounding me.

Liverpool was a really pretty city, and I was rather proud to call it my home. There were children and their tired mums still at the park, chasing after each other, and occasionally falling on their bottoms. I smiled happily at them; I had always loved children. I couldn't wait to have my own someday.

As this thought expanded, I finally got to the grocery store I had visited a few nights ago, and entered. The cashier, who I had met on my first day here, waved a cheery hello to me. He had taken quite a liking to me, finding the fact that I was from New York the most amazing thing in the world.

I walked to the vegetables side, and tossed a few potatoes, broccoli, and tomatoes before walking to the deli in the back of the room. I asked for a single chicken breast, received it, and was about to turn around to the register, when I saw a slightly familiar face in the window.

It was the same boy I had met on the bus. I stared at him for the shortest of seconds, doubting that he'd even recall my face, and walked to the register. I handed my things to the cashier, who sparked a conversation up with me.

"How are you, Julia?"

"Well, Robbie thanks," I smiled. "And you?"

"I'm alright, so you going to the carnival?"

"What carnival?" I asked.

"We have one every summer, down in the main square, you should go," Robbie said. "Meet new people, make some friends,"

I laughed, and shook my head. "I don't think so," I laughed again, picking up my bag of groceries.

"Awh, come on," He laughed. "You've at least got to go for the music."

"What music?" I asked.

"We always have local little bands play, around seven in the evening, some of them are real good, you should watch them play, since you told me you like music a lot,"

"I might," I smiled. "I'll see you later, Robbie,"

"Bye, Julia!"

I smiled and exited the store, completely conscious of the fact that the boy and his friends were still by the door. I began to walk back the way I came from, when I heard someone whistle loudly. I paused and turned back to the whistle, and saw that the boy and his friends were walking towards me.

I began to get nervous, and shifted in my spot. I didn't know why I didn't just keep walking, parts of me made me want to meet these people, and possibly get some friends.

"I saw you, you're the girl from the bus, what was it, Julia?"

"I didn't think you'd remember my name," I laughed.

"Course I'd remember your name, a pretty bird like you," He said. "So, listen you going to the carnival tomorrow?"

"I was thinking of it," I said. "I'll probably just go see the bands perform,"

"What kind of music do you like?"

"I like Elvis," I smiled. "Buddy Holly's good too, and Little Richard,"

"A pretty young bird with superb musical taste, I must've been sent to heaven,"

I laughed a joyous laugh, feeling my cheeks flush lightly. "Calm yourself, stranger,"

"Alright, alright," He laughed. "If you do go, which I sincerely hope you do, you should check my band out."

"Oh, you've got a band?"

"Yep, The Quarry Men, it's me and a few of me friends from our six form school." He explained. "You ought to watch us."

"I think I will," I nodded. "I'll be going now, before it gets too dark. So I'll see you tomorrow, mister...?"

"Just John," He smiled. "I'll see you 'round, Julia,"

I smiled and nodded, and he walked off, back to his group of friends, who like last time, were watching our small altercation from a distance.

Before John got to his friends, I turned on my heels and began to walk back home, where I cooked a nice meal. After, I showered once more and quickly fell to my bed, thinking of John and the festival tomorrow.


	3. Boys

**I Need You: A John Lennon Story **

_**Chapter Three: Boys, 15 July 1957**__  
><em>  
>"This place is rather dingy,"<p>

"I suppose,"

My voice was monotonous. I hadn't been trying for a long while to sound interested in what my unwanted companion had to say. Her name was Meredith. She had short blonde hair, mud brown eyes, and a pig nose she liked to stick high in the air.

Father had phoned in to check on me this morning, so I informed him that I planned on attending the carnival. He immediately suggested I go with a daughter of his friend, who was also to go, so I wouldn't be alone. I agreed quite reluctantly, and now I was stuck with a pretentious brat.

We didn't have much to talk about. She only spoke of her steady boyfriend, and refused to speak of anything else. She claimed that she had a boyfriend in Manchester that she met when she was visiting her grandparents there.

"We ought to head out towards the stage, shouldn't we?" I suggested as she opened her mouth to speak again.

"Sure," She said, snootily. We began the small trek from the Fish and Chips shop we ate dinner at, and walked towards the music.

As I leaned up against a small fence that was behind us, I spotted the same large clan of teenaged boys I seemed to spot everywhere. There was a few new ones, two handsome ones, and another one with blonde hair. John recognised me, and he smirked, leading his group towards me.

Once I saw that he was walking my way, I gave a small wave, and smiled.

"You know John Lennon?" Meredith said.

"Yes, I met him a few days ago," I nodded, looking at her from the corner of my eye. "Why?"

"He's such an arrogant wanker," Meredith said. "He thinks he's all high and mighty because everyone in school likes him. He always used to get in trouble in class,"**  
><strong>  
>"He was nice to me," I shrugged.<p>

"He's also a man-whore," She continued without listening to what I'd said. "He tries to get into every willing skank's pants, it's _horrible,_"

"Duly noted, now I recommend you hush up before he hears you,"

By now, John and his friends were standing in front of Meredith and I. He smirked at me as his friends settled behind him, the two handsome ones stepping up next to John.

"Julia, hello," John smirked. "So you decided to come, I see,"

"Indeed," I laughed. "When are you guys on?"

"In an hour," The handsome boy to John's left said for him.

"Julia, this is Paul McCartney," He nodded towards the boy who had answered me earlier. "Paul, this is Miss Julia Salvatore,"

"Hello," I stuck a hand out for him to shake, and he did so with a smile on his handsome, but slightly young face.

"Hello, Julia, nice to meet you," He said. "Are you American?"

"Yes, clearly," I laughed. "I just moved here from New York,"

"City?" I nodded. "That's bloody amazing, why'd you move here, then?"

"I wanted to live with my father," I laughed. "I don't understand why you don't like it here, it's beautiful,"

"Hardly," John scoffed. "All there is are fat wankers and old buildings,"

"_Exactly!_"

His group of friends laughed collectively, all while Meredith stood by not saying a word.

"So I assume you're staying for the gig," Paul said as our laughter died out.

"Yes, of course," I nodded, smiling. "I'm excited to see how you sound,"

"Fantastic, then," Paul smiled. "You reckon we ought to head back?" He directed the last part to John.

He nodded, his smirk returning. "Right then, it was nice to see you again, Miss Salvatore,"

"You too, John," I smiled.

"Stick around after the gig, yeah?" He asked as his group began to walk away.

I nodded, smile widening. "Definitely, I'll see you later then,"

He smiled, waved, and then walked back to his group of friends, leaving me behind and awestruck at how much charisma, and charm John could emit even during that two second conversation.

There was something about his air and manner of presenting himself that told me he was always the centre of attention during all situations. He was charming, funny, handsome, and seemed to know he was. He carried confidence, and it made me jealous and intrigued at the same time.

"He didn't even look my way," Meredith said in a voice full of venom. "I've been going to school with that idiot since I was eight, and he didn't even look my way,"

"I wonder why,"

"You guys were bloody amazing,"

John chuckled softly, and put an arm delicately on my shoulder, carefully turning me towards the old bench nearby. I sat down, and he took a seat next to me, his hand lightly lingering on my shoulder.

"Thanks, love," He laughed, and finally released my shoulder to reach into his pocket.

He pulled out a box of cigarettes, and proceeded to put one in between his thin, pink lips. He took a lighter out, and lit the tip of it, taking a deep drag before huffing out a cloud of smoke.

"Would you like one?" John said, sly smirk on his face.

"Not now, thank you," I smirked.

He raised his eyebrows at my answer, and I laughed. "Where did your little girlfriend go?"

"Meredith?"

"That's the bird," He nodded.

"She's hardly a friend, I only came with her because my father insisted," I said. "He didn't want me to be alone,"

"Yeah, I couldn't understand why you would hang out with that miserable broad voluntarily,"

"Goodness, you spare no mercy!" I laughed. "She's not that bad, you know. Quite annoying yes, but not a miserable broad."

"Sure, sure," John rolled his eyes. "Why'd you move from the States?"

I looked down at my knees, and clasped my palms together. A part of me wanted to tell him why, and another wanted to lie. I felt very comfortable around him, more comfortable than with anyone else I'd met. The first choice would have been illogical in any other situation, but not ours.

Even though I'd known John for only a few days, a week maybe, I felt a strong connection towards him. I still wasn't sure what kind of connection it was, but I was positive it was more of a friendly connection. Sure, he was handsome, funny, and charming, but I didn't look at him the way I'd seen a few girls today look at him.

John still hadn't said anything, so I assumed he was waiting patiently for an answer, so I told him.

"My mother cheated on my father, and they divorced, so I moved over here with my father,"

"Is your father an Englishman?"

"Err, yeah, he was born and raised here, actually," I responded, slowly. I was in shock that he hadn't pressed my statement any further, and was completely grateful.

"Richer part of town I'm assuming," He said in between drags of his fag. "You seem like one of them high-class sort,"

He looked me up and down, and I laughed. "I'm not, I was raised that way, both my parents are like that, but I'm not."

"Then what are you?" He asked.

I paused, and knitted my brows together. I contemplated the question in my head, thinking hard. "Nothing, I suppose,"

John laughed, and slapped his knee. "Welcome to the club, miss!"

I laughed with him, and leaned back in my seat, wrapping my arms around my bare arms to keep from the cold. I rubbed at my arms as our laugh quieted, and eventually died out.

"You cold?" John asked when he saw me rubbing my arms.

"Only slightly," I replied sarcastically.

"You should've brought a coat or something,"

"It's the summer, John, it's not that cold," I laughed.

"You sure are acting like it is. Here, have a fag, they'll warm you right up,"

"Fine, fine," I reached over at him, and took a cigarette from his little box, and put them in between my reddened lips.

I puckered my lips so that the fag stood straight forward, and John lit it for me, laughing. I took a drag from it, blew out the smoke neatly, and continued in this fashion until I ran out. I tossed it to the floor, and crushed the ember with my flats.

"So you're going to Liverpool Art College, are you?"

"Indeed I am," I nodded. "I'm going to study music, acting, photography, and art, obviously,"

He chuckled. "You've got a lot on your plate, haven't you?"

"I can manage,"

"You sound confident of that,"

"That's because I am, Lennon," I smirked. "Have you got the time?"

He shook his head no. "It's late, I'm going to assume," He laughed.

"I ought to start heading home," I murmured.

"What, have you got a curfew?" John smirked.

"My father isn't even home, he's in London," I chuckled. "I could literally stay out all night and he wouldn't know,"

"Why don't you?" H wiggled his eyebrows, smirk firmly in place, and I laughed.

"Because sleep is wonderful,"

John laughed loudly, and stood from his seat next to me. He grabbed my hand, and gingerly lifted me to my feet. "I'll walk you home,"

"That isn't necessary," I said, smiling. "I'm more than positive I can find my way home,"

"It's not safe for a beautiful girl like you to be walking 'round the streets at night," John explained, beginning to walk off with me still holding on to him.

"A tough guy like you ought to keep them off, right?"

"Exactly,"

John and I walked down a long sidewalk for what seemed an hour, talking and talking about anything and everything. He was such an interesting person, and was always cracking jokes, and I loved it. I assumed he took a slight liking to me, and it made me happy.

Once we reached the gate to my house, I paused in front of it. "Well, John, it was very nice of you to walk me home,"

"No problem," He shrugged. "I'll see you 'round, won't I?"

I nodded. "Goodnight, John,"

He winked, and walked off to the dark night, his shoes echoing against the concrete until they faded away completely.


	4. That'll be the Day

**I Need You: A John Lennon Story**

_**Chapter Four: That'll be the Day, 22 July 1957**_

It was seven o'clock in the evening, and I was lying in a grassy field. My fingers were taking a hold of my sundress and I was playing with the hem as John lay next to me, arms behind his head, and eyes closed. The warm sun, which refused to set entirely, was still radiating against my exposed legs, causing my pale skin to warm up.

I turned my head to the side, and was met with John's profile. I stared at him, examining his every feature, until his mouth opened.

"I can feel you staring at me, Jules,"

"Can you?" I asked. He nodded, keeping his eyes closed, and I smiled.

"See anything you like, speak up,"

I laughed loudly, and fell back on the grass, John smirking. I lay on my back, staring up at the setting sun, and closed my emerald eyes, thinking. Besides this morning, today had been quite a wonderful day. I had a nightmare, and I had awoken at around four in the morning, crying. I couldn't go back to sleep, so I sat up against my headboard and clutched my knees to my chest, crying.

At around seven, I decided to have a bath, and then eat breakfast. The rest of my morning consisted of me sitting in our parlour and thinking, something I did more often than I should. I analysed my dream, analysed my present situation, and thought of everything that had happened to me once again.

At around noon, I received a phone call, just like I had done the afternoon before, and the one before, from the same person.

"Hello, John," I answered as I picked up the receiver.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I dunno, I'm a good guesser," I said sarcastically.

"Well," John said while chuckling. "I'm going to head over in about an hour, all right? We're going to Blackpool,"

"Blackpool? What's Blackpool?"

"You'll see when we get there," John said. "Just ready yourself, Jules, I'll be there soon,"

Before I could respond, John hung up. Pausing to gather what had happened just know, I set the receiver down and then walked up to my bedroom. I put on a dark blue sundress, a pair of white flats, and fixed my straight hair, my bangs falling lightly over my eyes like they did every other day.

John had arrived at around twelve forty-five, and we set off immediately. We took a bus to this Blackpool place, John refusing to tell me what it was until we arrived. It turned out to be a boardwalk, with all sorts of shops, diners, and games lining the sides. We played a few of the simple games for a short while, and then John took me to a small diner in the corner for lunch.

He insisted on paying for my lunch, and did so even after my persisting against it. After, we took a walk down the beach side, which was absolutely beautiful. We talked, and talked about everything as we strolled down the sand.

"Me mum brought me here a few weeks ago," He said suddenly. "It was my first time actually meeting her,"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

I knew he lived his Aunt Mimi because that's all he ever told me about his personal life. He didn't go deep into himself, for whatever reason, and I didn't budge him. Now, he was opening up voluntarily.

"I live with me Aunt, you know that," John murmured as he took a fag out of his pocket. He took a lighter out, and lit the tip, dragging in smoke before answering me. "She took me in, when me mum left. I dunno where the hell me dad's at,"

"Has no one told you?"

He shook his no. "I've always kind of been afraid to talk about it. Mimi would've screamed her head off clean or something,"

I smiled at his subtle joke, and encouraged him to continue. "I'm hoping that since mum and I started getting to know each other, she'll answer all me questions. It just blows not knowing, you know?"

"I could understand why you feel like that," I nodded. "I'm sure you'll find out eventually,"

John nodded, and finished off his fag, flicking it to the floor afterwards. "Her name's Julia, just like yours,"

"She's a beautiful woman, just like you," He went on. "Funny, smart, loves music, she's great. It makes me angry that I didn't get to know her sooner. I could've, she only lives 'round the corner from Mendips,"

"Really?" He nodded. "She's been living there this whole time?"

He nodded again. "How could you not notice that, Johnny,"

I laughed, and he did too. "Well, my eyesight is terrible, I could've easily missed her walking down the street,"

I laughed, and nodded as he pulled his glasses from his coat pocket. "Glasses, John!"

"Sorry, Mimi," He sneered, and I laughed.

He put them on, and his smirk fell a little. I could tell that his glasses made him uncomfortable. "Don't worry, Johnny, you look fine,"

He rolled his eyes, and then took my hand in his. "Let's get going, I want to win a prize for you,"

I giggled as John dragged me off towards the nearest game, a game which required the player throw a few rings around empty Coke bottles. If you put all three around one of the bottles, you got a rather large teddy-bear.

John asked the stand attendant for some rings, and immediately got to tossing them towards the bottles, swearing each time he couldn't get them on. He had to ask for me, as he only got two on the bottles.

"Come on, Johnny boy!" I egged him on, laughing. "You can do this!"

He furrowed his brow in concentration, and then tossed the last ring towards the bottle. The ring nearly skidded past the bottle top, but instead landed with a dull clink atop the other two rings. I cheered when it settled, and ran up to John, giving him a hug. I clung to his torso tightly for a brief second, until I realised what I was doing. My face began to burn, and I felt a familiar red blush I seemed to get every time I was with John. My hands stiffened, as I'm sure he noticed, and I quickly pulled away.

I stepped back a foot or so, feeling completely awkward, and bit my lip, avoiding his gaze. He put his hands in his jacket, and stared down at me, half-smile, half-smirk playing at his thin pink lips. He stared down at me for a few seconds more, before laughing shortly and turning to the attendant.

"Where's the ladies prize?"

The attendant looked from me to him, and then reached down behind the counter to fish out one of the plush bears. He tossed it in John's direction, and John caught it easily. He turned to me, the same semi-smile, and semi-smirk on his face, and walked so that he was literally three inches from me. I was still looking down, refusing to let him see the bright red blush that had taken over my face because of that uncalled for embrace. John took his long, thin finger, and placed it under my chin, tilting my face up so that I had to look him in the eye.

"I believe this is for you," He said softly, almost chuckling. He lifted the bear up so that it was in my hands, and I took it.

"Thank you, John," I said, trying my hardest to regain my composure. I cleared my throat lightly, and shook myself mentally. "It's getting dark, Johnny,"

"We ought to head back," He finished for me. I smiled, and nodded. He came up to my side, and began to lead me towards the main street. As we were walking down the busy sidewalk, John took a light grasp of my small hand, not bothering to look down for my reaction. I almost stopped walking, but instead looked up at him as coyly as I could. His eyes were darting from side to side, making seem as if he was casually glancing about the street. I stared up at him for a short second, and then looked back in front of me. We reached the bus stop, and saw that there already was a bus waiting. Not wanting to miss it, John and I started dashing towards it. He still held on to my hand as we ran down the sidewalk, laughing. The bus began to pull out, and John began screaming for the driver to stop.

"Wait here," He said breathlessly down at me, laughing. I did as I was told, and waited as he ran in front of me, chasing the bus. John was screaming for the driver to slow down, and managed to get to the door. He pounded on it a few times, and the driver finally stopped.

He motioned for the driver to wait, and then ran back to me. He grabbed me by the hand, and then began to walk me to the bus, all while I was laughing madly. "John, you're so silly," I giggled.

We got to the door, and John helped me up the steps, causing me to laugh even more. I deposited change for the both of us before John could say anything, and pulled him back to the seats. I plopped myself down and John sat down next to me, immediately putting his arm around my shoulders. The bus was crowded, and there were people in every seat.

"You know, Johnny, you don't have to kiss my arse like that," I laughed.

"I ain't kissing your arse," He said coolly.

"I beg to differ," I laughed. I kept laughing, and then rested my head against John's shoulder, his arm tightening around my own shoulder. The sun was setting, and a day full of running up and down had finally gotten to me. My eyelids felt incredibly heavy, and my legs felt as if they were made of lead. I yawned, and snuggled closer to him, knowing that I was bound to fall asleep anytime soon.

I fell into a deep slumber, but drifted into and out of it as the bus ride went along. During one of these drifts of consciousness, I heard John having a conversation with another one of the riders of the bus.

"Who's the bird?" The foreign voice said.

"She's not a bird,"

"Well, Winston, who's the lady?" The voice asked again.

"Her name's Julia,"

"Your mum?"

"Does she look like a mum, you idiot?"

"Sorry," He said. "Who is she then?"

"A friend,"

"She don't look like a friend," He laughed. A chorus of laughter came after his initial laughter.

"Shut it, the lot of you," John's voice sounded sharp, and icy, and had the same dominating tone I'd only heard a few times, and never towards me. "She's a friend, and that's all you need to know, you've got it?"

I exhaled deeply, and stirred from under John's arm. "Now you've done it," He whispered, viciously. "You've woken her up!"

I inhaled deeply, and then lifted myself from his embrace, rubbing my eye. "Oh, goodness, I'm sorry, Johnny," I said softly. "I didn't mean to sleep on you," I chuckled, and he smiled down at me.

"It's alright, Jules," He chuckled. "We're here anyway,"

Just as he finished speaking, the bus stopped, and stood a large group of the people on the bus. John took my hand again, and led me down the aisle, and to the door, guiding me down the stairs again. We stepped out into the day, the sky a mix of pink as the sun set, and I stretched my arms as he took out a fag from his pocket. A large group of boys stepped out of the bus after us, and were all staring in my direction, looking me up and down. I scowled in their direction, and turned back to John, linking his arm with mine.

"Pigs," I breathed as they laughed and began to walk off. John shook his head, his cheeks flushing, and threw his fag down at the floor.

"Keep your eyes off her," He called after them. A few of the smaller ones laughed, while the two ring-leaders frowned. They looked slightly scared, and then shook their heads. They gathered their other friends, and quickly began to walk away, looking back at us occasionally.

"That's right," John called after them, a flood of cockiness running through his body. "Let's go, Jules,"


	5. Act Naturally

**I Need You: A John Lennon Story**

_**Chapter Five: Act Naturally, 12 August 1957**_

"_Jules, Jules!"_

John was drunk. We were sitting in a field not far from Mendips. John had managed to nick some liquor when he went to the shop earlier, and now, we were sitting behind a tree, drinking it.

"Jules," He whispered. "You should 'ave some!"

"No, if I did, nobody would be here to take care of you," I laughed.

"I don't need lookin' after, ya know?" John said, his voice getting suddenly stern. I looked at him quizzically, and he stared back for a second before laughing stupidly. He fell back into the growing grass, and kept laughing. I shook my head and then fell back, mimicking him. I turned to the side, and looked at him.

His eyes were closed, and although he was raging drunk, he looked quite peaceful. He had his palms down on the grass, his lips in a small smile, and his legs crossed. I stared at him for a minute longer until he finally opened his own eyes, turned towards my gaze, and stared back at me. I didn't say anything and he didn't either; we were too inhabited in each other's intense gaze, that no words were actually needed.

He gave a short laugh, and then scooted closer to me, reaching out for my hand. I didn't know how to react, so I let him take my hand in his. He turned his head to look up at the sky again, and then turned back to me. He smiled, and released my hand in favour of my cheek. He stroked it with his calloused thumb, and his smile softened.

He let go of my face, and then sat up, immediately taking me up with him. I laughed as he tossed me over his shoulder, squirming under his firm but gentle grip. He told me to settle down, and then proceeded to walk to the fallen tree nearby. He sat me down gently, and then took a seat himself. He turned to look at me again, and I looked up at him.

"You keep looking at my face, have I got something on it?"

John laughed, a short hiccup following, and shook his head. "No, no, you're really beautiful, that's all,"

I felt my cheeks heat up, and I looked down, clenching at the tree under me. John chuckled again and then put his hand over my own. I looked from it to him, and felt my cheeks burn even more.

"Why do you always get so nervous when I compliment you?" John asked, sluggishly.

I shrugged. "I'm not used to it, I guess; I don't know what to make of it,"

"Not used to it? That's hard to believe," John laughed.

"Nobody liked me at my school, they thought I was weird," I laughed. "I've gone on a single date, I think; I'm not even sure,"

"Well, we've got to fix that, haven't we?" He said. "Have you kissed anybody?"

"Err, no, I haven't," I said. "I dunno, I just never got around to it. No one in my school was interesting to me, and I wasn't interesting to any of them, so I just never got the opportunity."

I was embarrassed to admit that, especially to John, who I knew had gotten his first kiss and then some. But, as I turned to him, I realised that he wasn't listening to a word I was saying. He was simply staring at me as if I was a diamond.

It made me feel incredible.

I'd never received any kind of attention, and the amount of attention John was and had been giving me since I moved here made me incredible.

I looked up at him, and locked gazes with him. His smile softened, and he squeezed my hand in his. I bit my lip, and he bent down, almost pressing his forehead against mine.

I could feel his hollow breathing against my skin, and felt myself shiver. He bent down some more, so that his forehead was actually pressed against my own, and my mouth became dry. The liquor he had downed earlier still emitted from his breath, and from his clothes, but I could care less, simply, because I was completely paralysed at his touch.

When I didn't react to his advancements, he lifted his free hand and ran his thumb against my cheek like he had done earlier. His other hand let go of my own, and instead landed softly on my waist. I blinked slowly, and then opened them again, wondering frantically why I suddenly couldn't breathe.

John's eyes closed slowly, and mine did too, and soon, I felt him getting closer and closer to me, until finally, I felt soft and supple lips against my own.

The moment John's lips hit mine, every inch of my body was shocked with a buzzing electrical current. From the tips of my long fingers, to the pit of my burning stomach, and to my toes, I felt a warm buzz fill my body. His kiss set my body and my soul completely alight. I'd never felt as fantastically as I did right now. I'd never been so happy, and so elated, and so confused in the same moment. It was a glorious feeling, and I didn't want it to go away.

As soon as my mind began to function again, I began kissing John back. The hand he had coiled around my waist tightened its grip around me, and carefully pulled me towards him, so that my torso was resting against his. I could feel his slow, and hollow breathing, I could feel his heart pounding against my trembling body.

It was beautiful how well our lips meshed with each other's. It was as if my lips were made to fit the contours of John's lips exactly. It was beautiful.

My lungs were about to burst, I need to breathe. But I didn't want to pull away. If I pulled away, John would realise the mistake he'd committed in his drunken stupor, and he wouldn't want to kiss me again. I needed to hold out.

But I couldn't. No matter if John's hands had harshly grabbed me by the waist and hugged me against him in a passionate outburst. No matter if the amount of passion and, should I dare say it, love, was emitted from him wad indescribable. I couldn't leave his lips, I couldn't leave his arms.

I needed them around me. I needed to feel his heart beat against my chest. I needed to feel his breath trickle on my face. I needed to feel his warmness emit to me.

I needed him.

_Desperately. _

But I couldn't have him. Not now, and not ever. I pulled away. I lifted my hand, and wiped away at my mouth, immediately standing from where we were sitting on the fallen tree.

"I'm sorry, John, I have to go," I said, in the steadiest voice I could manage.

I picked up my bag from the floor, and tossed it over my shoulder. I turned my back on the stunned John, and began to walk away. After I was a good ten yards away, I heard John call after me.

"Jules, I'm sorry!" He said. "I didn't mean to, I wasn't thinking straight!"

I ignored him. I kept walking, feeling an all-too-familiar sting in my emerald eyes. My throat tightened and my fists clenched, and my stomach felt as if I had drunk acid.

I was falling apart.

'Why?'

I don't know. I still don't know. A week later, and I still didn't know.

Why did I let the kiss get that far? Why didn't I stop him when he began his first little advancement? Why did I allow myself to get so emotionally attached to him?

'I don't know.'

And that was all I knew, is that I didn't know why I permitted all of this to happen.

The abominable kiss that had refused to leave my head and my thoughts had ruined a perfect friendship, all because I allowed it to do so.

Even if our friendship wasn't ruined, and we decided to stop ignoring each other like we had done this entire week, it wouldn't be like it was before. That thought alone made me want to burst into tears.

I couldn't lose John. He meant too much to me. He was my friend, he was my best friend. I couldn't lose him. I couldn't lose him.

The phone rang. The ringing disrupted the silence the house had been in for nearly three hours, since I decided to sit down in the parlour and think. At first, I thought it might be John. But after remembering the circumstances, I decided that it might just be father, checking in on me from his flat in London.

I stood from the overstuffed arm chair in the corner and began a slow and unhurried walk to the phone. I lifted the receiver, and placed it against my ear.

"Hello?" I muttered.

"Julia! Darling! It's me!"

"Mum," I breathed. "Hello!"

"Mum? Honey, you're picking up the accent," She laughed; that joyous laugh that reminded me of church bells, that joyous laugh that made me forget all that she had done to our family. "Julia, how have you been? I miss you, terribly!"

"I miss you, too, mom," I nodded, leaning against the wall in thought. "I've been great, actually. I made friends. School starts in three weeks,"

"Oh, yes, Art College," Mother said, her voice suddenly getting nasal. "Darling, don't you think you should choose a profession that will allow you to get a career?

_Here it came again. _"Mum, I've said it once; I'm studying art because I enjoy it. I don't want to wake up in ten years and hate my life; I want to do what I'm passionate about. You of all people should understand that,"

"But, Julia, be logical, when will art be able to give you a pay check?"

"Mum, I don't want to argue," I said through gritted teeth. "Let's just talk,"

But, as those words escaped my lips, the doorbell to the front door rang. "Was that the door?"

"Yes, mum, hold on, will you?"

"I thought your father was in London," She began. "Julia, you're not supposed to answer the door!"

I set the receiver down before she could protest any more, and walked to the foyer, perplexed as to who it could be. I wasn't expecting any company. When I got to the door, I peeped through the stained glass panelling the walls beside the oak door, but couldn't see anything. The only thing I saw was a dark shadow.

I gripped the bronze doorhandle, and slowly pulled the door open, peering out to the evening sun. My throat tightened when I realised who it was.

"John,"


End file.
